All Night Long (Man of the Month 9)

Immediately, the smile left his lips, and he shifted to face Marianne more directly. "I didn't see you there," he said.

"Daydreaming, I suppose." Her smile was both sweet and flirty, and he felt a moment of guilt for having no interest in her whatsoever. Not sexually and not as a colleague. Judge Coale might think she was a good wingman, but he found her to be more like mashed potatoes--no personality of her own.

Selma, though ...

"Marianne, I'm so sorry. There's someone I need to go talk to."

He should mingle. He should play the game. He should schmooze and do all those things.

All he wanted to do was find the girl.

All he cared about was letting his goddamn cock rule the show.

At the moment, he was okay with that.

He slipped away to the hall with the restrooms, then looked back before easing into the ladies lounge. It had multiple stalls, but Selma was leaning against the row of sinks smiling at him.

"We're alone," she said. "Lock the door."

He lifted a brow, certain they were going to get caught. And then--because he was clearly under a spell--he did as she said.

She crooked a finger, and he walked to her, but when she started to drop to her knees, he shook his head. "No. My turn."

"Really?" Her brows went up.

He grinned. "You've corrupted me. Might as well go all the way."

He looked around, then nodded to the sink. "Sit up there on the counter. Then pull down those leather pants."

She bit her lower lip, then leaned forward. "Why, Your Honor? Are you in the mood to eat pussy?"

His balls tightened, and he pulled her close, then kissed that dirty little mouth.

"On the counter," he ordered. "Now."

"I hear applause," she said. "That means people will be coming. Folks always slip away when the speeches start."

"Then we need to hurry," he said, relishing the feeling of being wild. Of going a little crazy.

"You're a bad influence," he said as she shimmied her pants down, then planted her bare ass on the counter. She spread her knees, and he licked his lips.

"I want your tongue," she said, slipping a finger inside her.

He heard high heels in the hallway.

"Fuck," she said, but he leaned forward and kissed her, then bent lower, roughly pulling her sex toward his mouth. Then he closed his mouth over the sweet, sensual taste of her. His tongue filling her, his teeth nipping at her clit.

She squirmed, her hands tightening in his hair, her sex bucking against his face. "Fuck, yes," she moaned, her voice a stage whisper. "Oh, God, I'm close."

He reached around, sucking her more and more as he slid a finger around and found her ass. He penetrated her and she swallowed a scream, then screamed again as he hit the sweet spot and she exploded, a flood of her sweet juices rushing over his tongue.

He stood, then kissed her. "You taste fucking delicious. And you're either going to be the best thing that ever happened to me or the end of my career."

She winked. "Maybe I'll be both and we can run off to Bora Bora."

He laughed, but at the moment long hot days of lazy sex seemed like a fabulous idea.

A pounding at the door made them both jump, and she slid off the counter, their eyes locking and full of laughter. She held her finger to her lips, then fixed her clothes.